Seducing the Seducer
by Codename Jellybean
Summary: One drunk kiss and some incriminating pictures that have been stolen are all Terry Boot has to remind of himself of that night. Now, to regain what is his (namely, said pictures and a boyfriend), Terry, who has the sex appeal of a dead chicken must seduce the sexiest man in Hogwarts. Of course that man has to be ages older than him and the very definition of evil. And straight.
1. Chapter 1

**Written for the Dance Competition [smart person], the Crayola Colours Competition [Minerva McGonnagal], and the Sharing A Bed Challenge, and the Jukebox Challenge [based off of the song], Chemistry Challenge: AU. **

**Main Pairing: Terry Boot X Draco Malfoy**

**Other Pairings: RonXHermione, HarryXGinny, HarryXCho, ChoXCedric, DracoXAstoria, McGonnagalXSinistra, TeresaXDraco, PansyXDaphne, woo. **

**Warnings: There is an OC in this. AUish. **

_Monday. _

All I have to learn from this so called "DA" thing is that we are going to get caught, a Gryffindor has surpassed me in knowledge, and that Potter is far from straight. Far from.

From my vantage point in the back of the room, perched on a grimy crate, I saw three- not one, not two- but _three _gorgeous ladies staring at him with unequivocal adoration, and you know who he fixes his stunning green eyes on?

Zacharias Smith.

And constantly licking his lips as he gazes languidly down Smith's skinny, wiry frame.

So that and the tousled hair that must have taken hours to style pretty much gives him away. Pfft, poor Harry Potter. I might not be that NEWT-level Hermione, but I can still tell when you're about as straight as a bent pin.

It just occurred to me that I am wasting valuable time writing in this when I could be studying to catch up with a Gryffindor (bloody hell, I never knew I would be capable of saying that), dammit.

Cordially,

Terry Boot

_Tuesday morning, 2:00 am_

You will not believe it.

I can't believe it. I won't believe it.

Of all things, why is Draco Malfoy sobbing into my bed after kissing me?

First off, why did he kiss me?

Second, why is he crying? I'm not that bad for a first-timer...I hope.

I was going to the Astronomy Tower at midnight for a little catching up on some star charts, armed with some ink and parchment and naught else.

The stone steps seeped coldness into my feet with every step, but when I stepped into the tower, I saw the sky was an inky blue, stray puffs of clouds spread across miles. You could see the smoky silhouette of the Forbidden Forest to your right, and save for the mournful cry of a Great Gray owl in the distance, all was still.

It was beautiful.

Until a drunk -how did he get drunk?- Draco Malfoy stumbled into my view arguing about which number came first in the Fibonacci System. (It is, and will always be one, no matter how much Padma Patil tries to protest it). "Is zero," he hiccoughed. "Isss one, you little...you little-" Here he commenced to try to punch himself.

"It is the zeroth term!" He continued, before noticing me.

He took a second to process the random guy standing dumbfounded in front of him.

Then he promptly flipped me off. "Fuggov," he slurred, swaying on the spot. "This conservation is for intellellec-intellelle-intellellectualites only." He looked green and queasy, his blonde hair a fair contrast to the deep shade of Slytherin green his face was becoming.

Malfoy took one step forward and careened head first into me, his face planting into my stomach before sliding down into a tidy little heap on the ground. "Merlin's soggy-" I began as he fell silent.

"Ow," a childlike, plaintive voice escaped from his mouth.

I sighed. _Let's be a good Samaritan tonight. _

I hefted him onto my shoulder, and with a lot of grunting and heavy breathing (a fourteen year old asthmatic Ravenclaw whose only exercise is walking from class to class can't be expected to carry a six foot tall behemoth Quidditch player who feasts on first years for lunch).

I didn't know the Slytherin House password, and I doubted that he did either, in his drunken state. Plus, the Ravenclaw house was closer.

So after casting a quick Silencio on him, I dropped him on my bed where he let out a Firewhiskey-scented exhale. And after another equally quick Finite Incantatem (even if I'm not a NEWT-level Gryffindor, I am still a Ravenclaw, thankfully) I realized: _blackmail. _

I'd have this prick wrapped around my pinky if I had proof that he was passed out in my bed, drunk, in the middle of the night!

I set my magicked-camera to take a picture every five seconds (quantity produces quality, after all) and placed it next to the bed.

"So...Malfoy...care to explai-" I started, sitting awkwardly on the edge of my bed.

"Igutstedipped," came a muffled sob.

"What?"

"I got stood up by Teresa Boot!" He wailed. "She was so ho-o-ot...and I'm so ho-o-ot and I am like a sexy fiend just like Pansy says and she still stood me up and she was so ho-o-ot."

I made a mental plan to first congratulate, then kill, then thank my older sister for this delightful-yet-increasingly-awkward situation I had stumbled into.

And all of a sudden he was straddling me, his vacant eyes focused on mine. His nose was barely a millimeter away from my own.

"Excuse me, but-"

"Do you think I'm a sexy fiend?"

Yes, yes I do. Everybody does. "Um-"

And then he attacked my mouth in what only could be known as a snog, his hands wrapping around my neck. Of course I was incapable of motion at this point.

He sprung off of me as I let out a groan (which was not a moan, or a sigh of pleasure, no matter what it sounded like). "See, aren't I a good kisser? I'm so ho-o-ot why did I get stood u-u-up?"

As I stuttered something incoherent, still feeling his dazed lips on my own shocked ones, he began sobbing into my pillow, which is where he still is as I am writing this.

Dammit.

I know I'm a heteronormative, white, intellectually-gifted male with a tendency to develop nervous tics when under great stress, but dammit, he's a good kisser.

Dammitdammitdammit.

Dammit.

Cordially,

Terry Boot


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey all :) **

**First off, thanks to Lumosify and DarkIceAngelFlare didIgetyournamewrong for being awesome, and to Jen and A Sirius Crush On Moony for everything. **

**This is my fun story, the one that I have fun writing (...no, the part where I sound redundant and awkward was not intentional). Also, Terry Boot, yes!**

**Not written for any challenge this chapter, but next chapter will have some Dance Competition and Sharing a Bed because damn. Have to write two people talking dirty, which I can not do at all, ever ever ever. **

**Pairing: Terry Boot X Draco Malfoy**

**Warnings: Of course I have an OC (my first one woo) and a lot of suggestiveness. **

_Tuesday Morning, at a reasonable hour_

I thought that what happened this morning was a nightmare-slash-dream.

I woke up twenty minutes ago, to see nobody sleeping beside me.

Usually, that would be a good thing, but that meant that I had lost Draco Malfoy.

The camera stared at me, and one picture was left facedown on the floor.

Other than that, no sign of Draco Malfoy.

What the hell?

I blinked a few times, because clearly I had been imagining things. Even to myself it sounded stupid: I found Draco Malfoy crying and drunk so I brought him to my dorm where he kissed me and then disappeared?

And then I read the previous entry here, which basically confirms what I thought...it wasn't a dream.

Hoo-freaking-ray.

But shouldn't there be more than one picture? A LOT more than one picture? Unless he...

Oh damn it, he did.

Jesus, why me?

So he has blackmail on me, now- but I'm a Ravenclaw! Brains over brawn! I'm eight times smarter than him! Hell, I might even be smarter than his great-great grandmother Augustine Mallory Riddle (I mean, inventing a ton of Dark spells at a time when women were treated like stupid cattle is no joke). (And it is NOT creepy that I have studied the Malfoy genealogy at all).

Ranvenclaw : we are the smart ones!

...and I just remembered that I'm a year younger than him, and he has the highest grades in the Slytherin house.

Dammit to hell.

Jesus, why me?

Cordially,

Terry Boot

_Tuesday Afternoon, Transfiguration _

Ho hum, pretending to take notes in Transfiguration.

The Gryffindors think she's sooo strict, but they haven't seen Professor Sinistra: I mean, she's called "Sinister" for a reason.

Ho hum, pretending that it's not MY stomach that's growling because some genius decided that fifth years get to eat lunch at 3:00 p.m.

Ho hum, pretending that I am not EXPLODING WITH FEAR AND PAIN AND AGONY AT WHAT HAPPENED AT BREAKFAST THIS MORNING. GOD DAMMIT, WHY ARE SLYTHERINS SO INTIMIDATING?!

I was just being nervous at the Ravenclaw table with Amira and Cho and Chris, who were obliviously eating their scones and whatnot, unaware that their friend was about to be blackmailed by Draco Malfoy, and therefore would spontaneously combust soon.

The picture that was in my back pocket was making me sweat even more profusely than a fourteen year old Ravenclaw boy who forgot to buy deodorant when my lovely (note the sarcasm) elder sister Teresa Boot sashayed over to me.

"Can you do me a favor?" She rolled her eyes. "Some Malfoy kid insists that I stood him up yesterday and that, and I quote, 'my family will pay'. You both are in the same year, make him see sense or something."

And my blood ran cold. "How can I make him see sense?" I swear, I will never attempt to blackmail anyone ever again. Hell, I won't even say the word after this.

She smiled. "Just do it. I don't care. Knock him up, if you have to."

Let me explain something about my sister: since she's the hottest girl in Ravenclaw (dubbed so by the graffiti in the boy's bathroom), the smartest child spawned by the Boots (dubbed so by my loving, non-biased parents), and the best dang person ever (dubbed so by Her Majesty, Herself), she refuses to believe that someone will not -or in my case, can not, carry out her bejeweled words to their exact punctuation.

Also, with her tasteful double entendre of 'knock him up', she had left a very vivid picture in my mind which was not very tasteful.

Well, it kind of was.

Or it would be, if Malfoy was a girl.

Because I like girls.

My lack of ever falling in love with a member of the curvier gender says nothing, I tell you.

But before I could reply with my usual spiel employed whenever my dear sister asks me for advice ( the no-way-in-hell-are-you-crazy-woman one), she skipped off to do whatever Queens of the World do.

The bell rang, and we four split ways. As I turned a corner, a familiar (dammit, that hand was groping my ass last night, I better have remembered it) hand yanked my shoulder into a small alcove out of sight.

Draco Malfoy, with two faint dark circles painted under his eyes, but otherwise looking as fresh as a Morning Lily was smirking at me, the shadows thrown at random angles on his face only serving to make him look more handsome.

"I take it that you're missing some things," he said cooly. "A lot of things, really."

My adrenaline levels rose. "You know exactly where those 'things' are, Malfoy! In an envelope, and ready to be distributed to the school population when the need is apparent to blackmail me!"

He smiled. "Like you weren't going to 'blackmail' me with those pictures if you still had them." As I sputtered, he continued. "Or maybe you were going to save them, to have a nice wank to every now and then."

I believe that at this point I made a strangled noise that sounded much like a dying Hippogriff's mating call.

"You still have a picture, though, don't you." His breath ghosted over my ear, as he leaned in closer to me. A lock of his hair brushed my jaw.

"N-no," I muttered.

"You're a terrible liar, Boot," he murmured, and slipped his abnormally warm hand into my back pocket and retrieved it.

There is was, his blonde head attached to my ear, his hands on my thighs, my -happy?- expression, blue bedsheets.

He pretended to look at it before saying, "Hm, this isn't as good as the others. I'll let you keep it to satisfy whatever sexual escapades you're undoubtedly having of me."

I'm not sure whether to keep the picture or destroy it now. And I can still feel his hand brushing my ass, even though that was hours ago, and I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or not.

Choices, choices, dammit.

Cordially,

Terry Boot


	3. Chapter 3

**So hello. **

**I would like to clear up a few things: Draco Malfoy and Terry Boot probably do not have a very healthy relationship in this, which I am sure you all have noticed since they are both blackmailing each other (this should probably give off a few red flags). Also Draco is being a bit inappropriate by a lot. In my opinion, nobody should go out with a jackass like Draco Malfoy, his apparent attractiveness regardless. **

**While I believe that Draco Malfoy is an overall toxic person, I'm going to try to make him less so for the purpose of this fic. (However, his Draco-ness will hopefully still be intact because DRACO). **

**Pairing: Terry Boot X Draco Malfoy**

**Other Pairings: Chris X Pretty Much Every Straight Girl Ever But Especially Padma**

**Warnings: I'm attempting to write a dirty talking thing. More OCs, when will I stop NEVER. **

**Stuff this is being written for: Dance Competition, Sharing A Bed Challenge, yep yep (for REALS this time)**

**Also, YOUNG THE GIANT IS SO GOOD OMYGAH**

_Wednesday Morning, 11:00 _

Double Potions with the Slytherins, oh kill me now, supreme celestial beings.

I wasn't paired with Draco Malfoy, thank goodness, but with Pansy Parkinson, who is a vixen with legs longer than broomsticks, and twice as sexy, according to Chris, who in a fit of sheer insanity decided to fall in lust with this girl one fine day. To this moment, I am still not sure whether he compared her sex appeal to a broomstick or not, but I refuse to ask him, for fear of the mental trauma I might have to face during his rather long dialogues about sex.

Pansy took one disgusted look at me, and turned back to her conversation with Malfoy Junior, leaving me to brew the entire potion by myself. Which isn't a bad thing, of course. This way my grade is in my more than capable hands.

When I was done, I tapped my partner on the shoulder to tell her I was done. Pansy looked me over and said "Draco wants to see you after dinner. Something about a group of things you lost." She smirked at me, because _oh god she knows about the pictures and there is a possibility she has seen them. _

I think it's safe to say that I'm not going to survive this.

Cordially,

Terry Boot

_Thursday Morning, 2:18 am_

It seems as if history has a way of repeating itself.

Draco Malfoy is back sharing a bed with me, snoring, and I am still clueless about what is happening.

Dinner was how dinner usually is, except completely different.

There was Chris, talking about eight different girls at once (you wouldn't know he was a Ravenclaw until you see his Arithmancy squares, I assure you), Padma scolding him about how sexist he is and fretting about her grades, and Amira being pissed off at Umbridge for being a bitch, and fretting about her grades (and then normally I would agree with her and then fret about my grades). Yup, we Ravenclaws are the life of the party.

"Oh my gosh, Parvati Patil's ass, though, that is how every girl's ass should look like, I mean-" Obviously Chris.

"That's my sister, and you're objectifying females. Also, she's my _identical twin, _so you're talking about my ass, which is a topic I would not like to discuss," Padma replied.

"Cho Chang, though, her hair is the most beautiful thing ever, and that skin, and those adorable wrists, and that grace she walks with...perfection," Chris continued, ignoring Padma, although he looked a bit green after hearing what she said.

"Don't waste your breath, she's only looking at Harry Potter," Padma scoffed.

"He's gay, though, so she has no chance." I said. The three stared at me like I was an idiot.

"Gay?" Amira asked.

"Not straight?" Chris stuttered, dumbfounded, sneaking a look at Padma's hindquarters. He will never learn.

"Gay-diddy-gay-gay-gay," I confirmed with a nod.

Padma burst out laughing. "Terry, you're so weird."

Weird, I guess, is better than being humiliated by blackmail, I thought as dinner ended and I took a detour to the History Of Magic room, where Draco was lounging on a desk.

I never knew it was possible to lounge on a desk before, but here he was _lounging on a desk. _

"Curfew's soon, so hurry up," I said as I entered.

He raised an eyebrow. "Inquiry Squad, remember?"

"Oh."

"So obviously you're wondering why I would ever waste my time talking to an inferior Ravenclaw."

Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of oh-shit-when-is-he-going-to-kill-me, but his statement was close. I gulped and nodded.

"Dumbledore's Army." He said.

Time froze. "I - I have no idea what you are talking about," I blustered.

What he said next shocked me. "I want in."

"In what? Dumbledore's Army?" I asked, not believing my ears.

He looked at the floor. "Why not? Umbridge is a psycho bitch with anger issues, and even I agree that Dumbledore is better for this pathetic excuse for a school than she is."

"Um...that's not my choice to decide."

He smirked. "Oh, but, you see, it is." I stared at him. "I have your pictures, remember? They'll be destroyed the minute I'm in the Army."

"Um...I'm not s-" I don't even know what I was trying to say.

"That's all I need to say, and I am not wasting another second of my time talking to you." He cut me off without emotion, but I detected a hint of a tremble in his voice. He exited the room quickly and efficiently, and was halfway down the hall before I unfroze myself and ran after him.

'Wait, Malf-" I screamed as he opened the Slytherin dungeon with a whispered word.

He pushed me in. 'Are you stupid?" He hissed. "Why are you running after me? And yelling my name in the middle of the night in a deserted hallway?"

My pride was bruised from his calling me stupid, but I guess that was true. "I just had a question." I muttered.

He ran a hand through his weirdly-perfect hair and sighed. It seemed as if all of the vigour left him in that one breath. "You're going to ask me why I want to join, aren't you. I want to join for personal reasons that I don't have to tell you, but I assure you that it will be a win-win situation for both of us. Now, Bulstrode will be patrolling the Ravenclaw area from now for the next hour."

"...Okay."

He sighed, but this time, it was with exasperation. Rolling his eyes, he said "You really are clueless. Fine, I'll say it like a Ravenclaw. Terry Boot, I Draco Malfoy cordially invite you to spend the night in the Slytherin Boy's Dorm-platonically."

Oh. For a brief second, I admit I felt a prick of disappointment when he included the last five syllables, but it was only there for a nanosecond, I swear.

I entered the room with him, half a step behind him.

The Slytherin Dorm Room is similar to the Ravenclaw dorm, except with an air of if-you-look-at-me-wrong-I-will-incinerate-you infused into the furniture. I edged nearer to his bed as he stepped out of his robes with a sinuous grace known only to the sexiest of the sexy.

I had no time to see what he hid under his shirt, because he said in a slightly muffled voice "I don't want you ogling me, Boot."

"I'm not ogling you!" I wasn't.

I gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, head turned away and looking at some breathing lumps of blankets until I felt the mattress shift as Malfoy got on the bed.

He pulled the blankets over himself and gave me a look when I hesitated. "Only one of us is gay here, Boot. Nothing's going to happen under these blankets, you're acting like a twelve year old."

So he basically confirmed he was gay then, which I could also use to blackmai- never mind.

I got in and he turned so his back was facing me. "Anyhow, I'd never sleep with a little kid," he said.

"I'm not little, I'm in your year!" I am not little, I am just a bit on the short side, and a bit on the underweight side, and a bit on the not-very-muscular side, okay?

He craned his neck to look at me with one skeptical gray eye. We were almost touching...until we weren't.

"So maybe I got put up a year in Charm School," I grumbled. "That means nothing. Maturity wise, I'm probably more stable than a seventh year Hufflepuff."

He scoffed (why did he scoff? _why did he scoff?) _and turned over again, so I was left to face his back.

I replayed the conversation through my head, and one part stuck:

_Nothing's going to happen under these blankets. _

And then, my mind started to play with these words very graphically.

_"Nothing's going to happen under these blankets." _

_"Nothing?" _

_"Nothing except for-" _

_"Omygosh it's so big." _

_"Do you want it inside of you?" _

_"Mm, it'll taste so good..." _

_"But not as good as the grape flavour." _

_"Really? I like strawberry best." _

_"You know what they use to colour that? TINY RED BUGS." _

Let's just leave it at that, because it ended with a rather vicious brawl over which popsicle flavour was best.

I am very opinionated on popsicle flavours, obviously.

Of course, I am not saying 100% that I was talking about popsicle flavours, because I might not have been.

...But I might have.

Let's just leave it at that.

Now, I have a very big problem to take care of, but I'm not sure how I can with someone else in this bed here. I'm not even sure how it happened, because hell-o, straight boy here.

Dammit.

Cordially,

Terry Boot

_Thursday Morning, 7:00 am_

Sneaked out of the dorm before anyone woke up.

I am just pretending that last night never happened ever.

Even though I have written documented proof that it did.

And that problem I mentioned? It resolved by itself.

A minor blessing, indeed.

Cordially,

Terry Boot

**Okay so I chickened out with the talking dirty, because even though this story has a lot of innuendo, that's about as far as I go with sex. The real thing can just go screw itself or something, because I don't want to think about top-bottom whatevers with the whatevers and also Terry is fourteen, and although I believe that you should have sex whenever you feel ready and an arbitrary law or social stigma should not tell you when you should have it, come on, how mature do you think Terry is on this note? NOT AT ALL. **

**Also, the popsicle bit made me giggle like a ten year old again XD **

**Cheers!**

**xxCJxx**


End file.
